


Un Poco Loco--Love and Heartache

by im_fairly_witty



Series: Coco Teacher!AU [3]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: Dating, F/M, Flashback, Romance, get your adorable Imector feels right here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_fairly_witty/pseuds/im_fairly_witty
Summary: Profe Héctor knows that he and la Directora Imelda are destined to be one of the greatest romances of all history. Now all he has to do is convince Imelda that he's right.[A short fic of when Imelda and Héctor were dating the first time, six months or so before the main teacher!au storyline begins.]Posted to ao3 as a separate story in the same series for clarity purposes.





	1. First "Date"--The Christmas Party

“Ernesto please, I’m begging you hermano, you can’t betray me like this!” Héctor said desperately.

“If you can’t learn to tie your own tie then you don’t deserve to wear one.” Ernesto said, tapping shaving cream off his razor against the side of the bathroom sink, unaffected by Héctor’s pleading. “You’re twenty-six Héctor, it’s time you acted like it.”

“Please? It’ll only take you a second, you’re the one that’s always bugging me to buy a new one.” Héctor looked at the brand-new blue and purple strip of cloth in his hands, the stupid thing had been defeating his efforts for nearly half an hour. “Imelda’s going to be at the Christmas party and I want to make a good impression.”

“The ice queen next door?” Ernesto raised his eyebrow, continuing to scrape away at his five o’clock shadow. “I thought I told you to leave that one alone Teto, you’re only going to get frostbite if you go after her.”

“No, no, no, she’s not ice,” Héctor said, leaning against the bathroom wall at the very thought of La Directora. “she’s fire. Looking at her is like being in the glory of the sun.”

“Well, I guess that explains why you’ve gone blind then.” Ernesto scoffed, rinsing his razor in the sink, then wiping his face off with a towel. He sighed as he dried his hands. “Give me the tie.”

“Muchas gracias!” Héctor said, eagerly handing it over.

Héctor stood still, bending a little so Ernesto could loop the tie over his head. In a moment, the piece of fabric had been charmed into place and Ernesto slid the knot up into place.

“Next time you tie it yourself.” Ernesto said, poking Héctor in the chest, “It’s an important part of being a man, and you’ll have to be a man if you’re going to get yourself a woman, claro?”

“Sí, sí, claro.” Héctor said, leaning over Ernesto’s shoulder to look in the small bathroom mirror. “Should I put something in my hair do you think?”

“Who are you and where is Héctor?” Ernesto said, jaw slack in mock surprise, “What has the ice queen done to you? Should I be launching an intervention?”

“She’s so amazing Ernesto,” Héctor said, “she’s just, just, she’s like that feeling when you’re staring up at the night sky, and you suddenly realize how small you are.” Héctor sighed, unconsciously pulling on his tie. “But somehow you’ve still got this thrill going through you at just with how beautiful it all is and you get to be part of it, even if the universe hasn’t noticed yet.”

“You’d better cool it with the astronomy metaphors.” Ernesto chuckled, slapping Héctor’s hand away from the tie, then reaching for his aftershave. “Isn’t that how you lost Isabella?”

“Who? Oh, Isabella? No, no, this is completely different.”

“Yeah, sure. That’s what you always say.” Ernesto rolled his eyes as he rubbed some aftershave across his face. “You sure you don’t want to just come clubbing with me tonight? You’ll have a much better chance of getting some action than at your staff Christmas party.”

“It’ll be fun, it’s at that trendy new karaoke bar that just opened a few blocks away. I’m already planning on showing up late anyway, I’ve got papers to grade. Don’t you have work tonight?”

“Eh, I’m going to call in sick.” Ernesto said, closing the medicine cabinet. “It’s not like the record store really needs me when I only come in once a week anyways.”

“Why do you even work there if you don’t actually work there?” Héctor asked, reaching around Ernesto and grabbing his toothbrush.

“Networking amigo,” Ernesto said grandly, shouldering him aside to get a closer look at his mustache in the mirror. “All the weird indie hipsters need their vinyl, our gig next weekend is from a regular.”

“I’m still not sure how I feel about that.”

“Well you sure weren’t complaining the last time we had groceries.” Ernesto said, “Maybe you can ask your ice queen for a raise when you sweep her off her feet tonight.”

“Hmmmmm, maybe.” Héctor said through a mouthful of toothpaste foam. He could just imagine sweeping Imelda off her feet, her arms around his neck, her beautiful rare smile on her face, her-

“Héctor.” Ernesto said, snapping his fingers in Héctor’s face.

“What?” Héctor said, startled out of his thoughts.

“Just don’t get fired tonight alright?” Ernesto scoffed, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised as he walked past Héctor and out of the small bathroom, “You getting some action with your boss isn’t going to be worth it if I have to pick up extra shifts because you lost your paycheck.”

“Don’t worry about it, tonight’s just going to be some friendly conversation over some drinks,” Héctor said, waving off Ernesto. “It’s all a part of my long-term plan to woo her. She’s a goddess Ernesto, you can’t win a diosa in an evening.”

“Whatever.” Ernesto called from the kitchen. “Just don’t have too much fun making small talk and singing off-key pop songs with your coworkers.”

But Héctor didn’t pay him any attention, once again becoming lost in thought as he resumed brushing his teeth. He knew it was his wildest of wild dreams, but what if something did happen between him and Imelda tonight? You just never knew with great romances, and he’d already decided that he and Imelda were going to be one of the greatest.

Now if only he could get her to think so too.

***

_And you had BETTER have fun tonight, hermana._

Imelda sighed, looking up from Ceci’s text as she pulled the keys out of her car’s ignition.

_I’m still their boss Ceci,_  she typed back,  _and you know I hate these party things._

Imelda leaned back in her seat, sighing. The dark December evening outside made the gaudy blue neon lights of the karaoke bar seem extra bright. She’d known assigning the staff Christmas party to Señora Rodriguez had been a mistake, By the time Imelda had found out this year’s party wasn’t going to be the usual subdued get-together at someone’s house, it had been too late for her to do anything about it.

Imelda squinted at the bar’s sign: Poco Loco.

Well. At least the place looked clean.

Imelda’s phone buzzed.

_WHICH IS WHY YOU NEED TO LOOSEN UP._ Ceci text-yelled.

_NO, it’s why I should go home right now._  Imelda texted back. Of course she would never actually skip an official work event, but it felt good to let out at least some of her anxiety on Ceci.  _What am I supposed to do, socialize?_

_This is a direct order to have at least three drinks tonight._ Ceci buzzed back. _No arguments. Relax and have some fun tonight Imelda, you need this._

Imelda groaned and leaned her head back against the seat, a small whine of despair escaping her in the strict privacy of her car. She knew Ceci was right, she was always right about social things, but it didn’t make the fact that parties were completely structureless and unpredictable any easier to bear.

_FINE_. She texted back,  _But if anything terrible happens I’m blaming you._

_I will gladly accept that responsibility. Now get in there and party, amiga. <3_

Imelda grabbed her purse from the passenger’s seat and dropped her phone into it. If this were a board meeting she’d be nothing but confidence. If this were an interview she’d know exactly what to say. So why not a party? She was a grown woman, she could handle this.

She closed the car door behind her a little harder than necessary, but the power of the movement felt good. Imelda held her head high as she approached the bar’s entrance, but paused for just a moment before going in, scanning the parking lot.  

There were three motorcycles parked in the corner of the lot, but none of them looked familiar.

Well, in that case, she was going to knock back the very first shot of alcohol she saw. He hadn’t come last year either, and as long as Imelda didn’t have to be on her guard around him, then she could stand to have the edge taken off her nerves as soon as possible.

***

Héctor huffed as he popped out the kickstand on his motorcycle, tilting it to the side in its parking spot in front of the karaoke bar. Why was he always late to everything? He only lived a couple blocks away, but by the time he’d finished grading his papers and gotten away from Ernesto’s repeated offer to change his plans, the evening was already nearly over.

He pulled off his motorcycle helmet and locked it to his bike, shaking his bangs out of his eyes. Well, being late was fashionable right? He just had to hope Imelda thought the same.

Which he already knew she didn’t, she was always exactly on time to everything. But who knew, maybe she was different about parties?

Héctor popped a mint into his mouth and smiling at his own reflection in the glass entrance doors before swinging them open. Parties like this were his comfort zone, he wouldn’t have to think too hard, just flow with the energy of the group as things wound down and have a good time while doing his best to catch Imelda’s attention. Easy.

He only made it a few steps into the noisy bar before someone slung an arm around his neck.

“Ay, Héctor!” Jose, the seventh-grade biology teacher, said. “Thought you weren’t coming amigo, we’re all getting ready to head out!”

“Jose, what’d I miss?” Héctor smiled, cocking finger guns at him. “Glad to see the party started even without me.”

“Héctor, you have no idea,” Jose grinned, pulling out his phone and swiping through his pictures, “you know how you missed last year’s party when La Directora nearly got tipsy?”

“Sí, how could I not, it’s all you guys talked about for a month.” Héctor scoffed, forcing a smile.

He’d missed his first staff Christmas party for a gig with Ernesto, but had come back to a slew of jokes made about at Imelda’s expense. Mostly good-natured of course, La Directora was still La Directora after all, but somehow Héctor had never quite found them funny. At all.

“Right!” Jose chuckled, holding up a picture on his phone for Héctor to see, “well this year we’ve all gone in on getting her plastered, you know, buying her drinks for being such a great boss, and it’s totally working.”

Héctor reached to take the phone, but before he could take a closer look, someone grabbed his other hand. He looked up, dropping Jose’s phone when he saw who it was.

Hair down, cheeks flushed, and eyes bright, was Imelda.  _Holding his hand and smiling._

“You weren’t coming!” She exclaimed brightly.

“I, uh.” Héctor said, staring down at her.

Her hand was soft and warm in his, and everything inside him jolted when, with absolutely no warning, Imelda put her other hand on his chest.  

“Your tie,” she said, pulling at the strip of cloth to look at it very closely. “It’s soooo pretty…”

Héctor stiffened in visceral shock as she leaned against him, feeling at least five years instantly shave off his lifespan. She was still staring at his tie like it was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.

“See?” Jose said, sounding like he was close to tears with restrained laughter as he picked up his phone off the floor, “Isn’t this the greatest thing you’ve ever seen?”

“How many drinks has she had?” Héctor said, forcing words through a windpipe that felt like it had entirely closed up.

“At least three for sure, but probably around five.” Jose gasped out, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “This is priceless.”

Héctor had practiced over and over again the smooth conversation he’d start with Imelda, probably at the bar counter, probably as she tried to ignore him. He’d even equipped himself with several suitably cheesy pickup lines in case things went even better than he’d expected.

He had not prepared himself for what to do if Imelda snuggled up to him within two minutes of his arrival. He was sure his brain had been in his head when he’d walked through the door, but now there was only flustered panic between his ears.

“Señor Rivera,” Imelda said seriously, looking up at him, her face dizzyingly close to his. “This is a karreeeeokee bar and you sing right? Sing, okay?”

Héctor gingerly put his hands on her shoulders as he took a step back, praying she wouldn’t fall over. Her words sounded odd, slurring just a bit.

“How about we get you some water, eh Directora?” He said, looking around the bar helplessly, “Some food? That’ll help get the alcohol out of your system.”

“We’ve already tried, she’s wasted Héctor,” Jose said, shaking his head and pulling a jacket off the coat rack near the door. “We didn’t think she’d get this plastered so fast.”

“Ayyyyye, you’re not leaving already?” Héctor said, feeling the rising panic in his chest solidify as he saw several of his coworkers waving and laughing as they made their way out the door.

“Lo siento Héctor, that’s what happens when you come late. My kids have futbol practice in the morning.” Jose shrugged, then glanced at Imelda.

“You’re sooo taaaall.” Imelda crooned, reaching up for Héctor’s hair, but he caught her wrist just in time.

This was it. This was what was going to kill him. He was going to die in a trendy karaoke bar after being abandoned by his co-workers.

“Hey Héctor, you two live nearby right? You mind getting her home safe?” Jose said, his amusement sobering long enough to show his concern.

“Sure, I’ve got it.” Héctor said automatically, kicking himself as soon as the words were out of his mouth. If there was ever a time to say no, this should have been it.

“Muchas gracias.” Jose said, looking relieved as his amusement came back and he ducked out the door. “See you two on Monday!”

A small whine of fear escaped Héctor as he watched the last of his co-workers disappear out the door. The bar was still fairly busy, but Héctor felt as abandoned as if it were empty.

He jolted when he felt fingers sliding up his chest and automatically caught Imelda’s other wrist.

“Ah, Imelda…” Héctor looked down at her, her big brown eyes were so close to his that he found himself desperately wishing he had his glasses on for the first time in months. “Let’s get you home, alright? You look like you could use some sleep. And a lot of Tylenol in the morning.”

“I’mnotired.” She slurred, squinting at her surroundings. “But, okaaaay.”

Héctor released her wrists, but cringed as she fished a set of keys out of her purse, weaving slightly, like she might still fall over.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Héctor gingerly but quickly eased the car keys from her grasp. There was no way he was letting her near a steering wheel in this condition.

“Hey,” Imelda tried and failed to jerk the keys back from him, “don’t! I can fire you you know, I’m your boss.”

“Sí, sí,” Héctor said, stuffing the keys into his back pocket for safekeeping and then holding up his empty hands, “but you’re way too drunk to drive Imelda, why don’t I walk you home instead? Our complex isn’t far, and it’s a lovely night.”

He had no idea what he would do if she refused, in this state he wouldn’t even trust her on the back of his motorcycle.

Imelda considered him for a long moment. Her annoyed stare would have made Héctor think she was sober again if she weren’t also leaning heavily against the back of a nearby chair.

“No.” She declared with finality, giving her head an exaggerated shake. “you’re going to walk me home. I think I….might be a little drunk.”

“That sounds like a great plan,” Héctor sighed in relief. He ever-so-gently put a hand on her shoulder, steering her towards the doors. “I’d be happy to walk you home.”

“I’m just, I just hate parties you know?” Imelda said as they walked out into the cool night air.

“Oh, they aren’t always so bad.” Héctor said.

He let the bar door swing shut behind him, cutting off the rowdy chatter inside. There was a whole universe of a starry sky above them, and the endless night horizon in every direction.

“Yeah they are,” Imelda said, laughing a little as she tried for the third time to get her purse strap up onto her shoulder. “I only went because your stupid motorcycle was gone and Ceci said it was an order. ”

Héctor nearly asked what she meant, but just shook his head, following close by her side as they set off. Anything she said at this point would be tipsy rambling anyway, he just had to get her down five blocks of sidewalk without stepping into traffic was all, and by Monday this would just be a funny story to tell in the breakroom.

“I’m so tired.” Imelda said, coming to a halt so suddenly he nearly walked into her.

“Which is why we’re getting you home, so you can sleep.” Héctor said reassuringly, gently nudging her forward, “We’re almost there.”

Which was a lie.

“Can you sing the grocery song?” Imelda asked, turning to look at him. A nearby streetlight lit up her hair like a halo from behind, nearly making him forget what she’d just asked.

“The grocery song? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that one.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets and rocking onto his toes, caught between the desire to rush her home as quickly as possible and wanting to memorize exactly how she looked at this moment. “Could you hum a few bars?”

“You do too know it,” Imelda said, then hummed the first few measures of what was unmistakably  _La Llorna_ as she continued to walk.

“How is that the “grocery song”?” Héctor asked, starting after her again.

“You sing it when you bring in your groceries.” Imelda said, sighing as if her were being rather slow for missing something so obvious. “I don’t know what it’s actually called, you’ve never sung what it’s called.”

Héctor blinked. He was usually singing or humming or tapping out some kind of tune, but had Imelda really paid him that much attention? When he passed her in the apartment complex parking lot of all places?

He wasn’t sure what to say, so he began to hum instead. Imelda nodded and continued to hum her own made-up harmony alongside his as they continued to walk, making Héctor feel very strongly that he was actually in a very strange dream and that he would probably wake up any moment.

They traveled several blocks this way, Imelda prompting him to start the song again whenever he ended, before she decided to lay down.

“Whoa, Imelda, we’re not there yet!” Héctor said as she curled up on the cold sidewalk at his feet.

“I’m just…one second…” She mumbled, her hair tumbled over her face.

“No, Imelda, come on, just a little further.” Héctor pleaded, crouching down to gently shake her shoulder but getting no response.

He looked up, their apartment complex was in sight, but it didn’t do them much good if Imelda was passed out on the sidewalk. He groaned, pulling at his neck tie until it hung more loosely, letting him think.

“Okay,” He said, straightening and anxiously grabbing a fistful of his own hair and he looked around, “okay, okayokayokay…”

He could wait for her to get up on her own, but honestly that might not be until morning judging by how unsteady she’d been right before lying down. Calling Ernesto for backup not only felt like it would be overkill, but Héctor knew he would never hear the end of it.

Héctor looked down. “Imelda?” He tried, but she didn’t move.

Alright then. He could do this. He could handle this. It was only a short walk to the apartments, he would survive.

Héctor tried to take a deep breath, but ended up holding it instead as he crouched back down and gingerly scooped up Imelda into his arms.

All in one smooth motion he stood, one of her dress shoes fell off, she sighed as she nestled her head against his shoulder, and one of her hands lazily wove her fingers around his loose necktie.

It took Héctor a full minute of overwhelmed silence to recover, but he did not drop her, which was perhaps the biggest miracle of his life. He’d have to come back for her shoe later, there was no way he was going to try picking it up now.

It was tempting to run, but he didn’t dare, instead steadily making his way towards home while cradling the most beautiful woman in Mexico (in the universe undoubtedly) in his arms. She was much lighter than he had expected, and up close she smelled like mint with a hint of something else he didn’t know the name of, but that was messing with his head in a wonderful way.

Luckily the complex parking lot was empty by the time he finally reached it. No one saw him carefully making his way up the stairs with an unconscious woman in his arms. No one saw him nervously glance around as he managed to get Imelda’s keys, still in his back pocket, out and unlocked her apartment door. Most importantly, no one saw him duck in and close the door behind them before her cat had the chance to escape.

The inside of her apartment was surprisingly similar to how he’d imagined it. Uncluttered, tastefully modern furniture, a well-stocked and organized bookshelf against one wall. He hadn’t expected the messy collection of take-out containers on the coffee table though, and he certainly hadn’t known about the small brown tabby cat that was stiffly stalking towards his ankles.

“Shhhhh, buen gato.” Héctor said nervously, taking a step back as the little animal’s fur stood on end. “If you attack me I might drop Imelda and then we’ll both be upset.”

To his surprise the cat’s fur flattened, it was still glaring up at him with its piercing yellow eyes, but it sat on it haunches. _Fine,_  it seemed to be saying, its ears still twitched back.

Okay, so apparently Imelda did indeed have a roommate, and a protective one at that. Good to know.

Héctor looked around, recognizing the apartment layout as being similar to his own. If he had to guess, he figured that her bedroom was probably the second door down the hallway then. He just had to get her safely in bed and then he could escape from this ridiculous fever dream of an evening.

“Pepita?”

Héctor looked down to see Imelda had opened her eyes and was struggling to lift her head off his shoulder.

“Well hey, you’re back.” Héctor said gently.

“Where did I go?” She asked blearily.

“Nowhere, we’re going to get you to bed alright?”

“Gooood, I think, I might be little drunk.” She confided for the second time that evening.

Héctor chuckled as he walked down the hallway and shouldered open the door. He’d guessed right, a perfectly made bed was inside.

“You’re so distracting Rivera,” Imelda said, leaning her head against his shoulder again. “you’re lucky I haven’t written you up yet for being attractive.”

“What?” Héctor choked.

He nearly dropped her, but instead turned it into setting her on her feet at the last moment. She was really far gone if she was actually complimenting him, it had to be the alcohol talking.

“It’s just, your dumb hair.” Imelda leaned up against him, her fingers combing through his hair before he could stop her again. “Do you know how hard it is not to think about your hair when I’m trying to do important work stuff?”

Keep it together.

_Keep it together._

Héctor’s breathing was suddenly unsteady, his brain completely checked out at the feeling of her warm body up against his, her fingers playing with his hair.

This was too specific, it wasn’t alcohol talking.

“Imelda, you are drunk.” Héctor said aloud, reminding himself probably more than her. He commanded his arms to move and took her by the shoulders to steer her away from him and towards her bed instead. “You should get some sleep alright? You’d better get a head start on the hangover you’re going to have in the morning.”

Imelda moved to sit down on the edge of the bed and Héctor yelped in surprise as he was jerked forward, her grip still on his loose tie. He caught himself just in time, an arm on either side of her.

“Imelda you’ve got to let go of my tie.” Héctor said hoarsely.

“Oh.” Imelda said, looking at the strip of cloth in her hand like she’d completely forgotten about it. “Are you going to sleep too?”

“Yep, I’ve got my very own bed back at my own apartment.” Héctor said quickly. He felt a little like he was choking, but it wasn’t the tie, which was slipping out of its knot anyway.

“Alright, good night.” Imelda said.

She yawned, kissed him on the nose, and then slumped back on the bed, unconscious again before she even hit the covers.

Héctor straightened the moment he was free, blushing deeply as he touched his nose. His tie had slipped off from around his neck, and she was still holding it close to her on the bed. He looked down and saw the cat staring up at him, a rather cool expression on its feline face.

“I think she likes me.” Héctor whispered to it.

The car flicked its tail, unimpressed. It padded to the bed, jumped up onto the mattress, and curled up snugly under Imelda’s chin.

Héctor hesitated for a moment, but then carefully tucked Imelda’s legs up into the bed and pulled a comforter over her. He went to the kitchen, rifling through her cupboards until he’d returned to set a glass of water and a bottle ibuprofen on her nightstand. She was definitely going to need it in the morning.

That done, Héctor reached for the light switch in his way out, lingering in the bedroom doorway for a long moment. She’d shifted in her sleep, pulling a pillow close to her chest as she curled up under the covers.

Héctor wasn’t sure how long he stood there, content to gaze at her gentle beauty, before the cat raised its head, looking directly at him with a look that clearly meant  _move along_.

“Alright, alright. No need to shout.” Héctor said quietly, flipping off the bedroom lights.

He paused by her bookshelf on his way out to make a few mental notes for future reference, then ducked out of her apartment.

The moment he was home, as soon as he’d locked his own door behind him, was when the laughing started.

Héctor sagged against the door as a chuckle of stress and disbelief escaped him.

She liked him.

Imelda knew what songs he sang when he brought in his groceries, and thought about his hair while she was working, and wanted to write him up for “being attractive.” Who knew what else was happening in that wonderful brain of hers?

He really had a chance, more than a chance. Now that he knew she liked him, under all that pretended sternness, he had something even stronger than hope to dream with.

“What on earth happened to you?”

Héctor looked up to see Ernesto standing in the hallway, dressed in his blue silk pajamas and wide-eyed as he looked down to where Héctor had slid to the floor.

“Were you mugged?” Ernesto asked.

“No no no, I just,” Héctor gasped between laughs, weak with relief. “I don’t even know what happened, I, I-”

“Are you drunk?” Ernesto folded his arms.

“I wasn’t the drunk one, Imelda-“

“Nooooo!” Ernesto gasped, dropping the book he had been holding. “You got laid?”

“No!” Héctor cried, propping himself up into a better sitting position against the door. “Let me finish!”

“Darn right you’re going to finish!” Ernesto exclaimed, dragging over a kitchen chair and sitting with his arms crossed on the back of it. “Tell me.” He commanded.

Héctor relayed the night’s events as quickly as he could, his brain already drifting to think about what he’d do the next time he saw Imelda.

“Well congratulations amigo,” Ernesto said after he’d finished roaring with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Your idiot dreams came true after all. But I don’t know what you’re doing back here though, you’ve still got plenty of time to go back her apartment.”

“What?” Héctor asked as he stood, then realized what Ernesto was implying. “No! She’s drunk and exhausted, how could even suggest something like that?”

“I was just kidding, honestly, I was kidding,” Ernesto said, waving off Héctor’s indignant look as he stood and carried his chair back to the kitchen. “But,” he called over his shoulder, “drunk Imelda is probably the only Imelda you’re ever going to have a chance with muchacho, you gotta seize your moment.”

“Don’t be a creep Ernesto, it’s not funny.” Héctor said, rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t until Héctor went to kick off his shoes that he remembered Imelda’s lost flat was still lying on the sidewalk somewhere. He jammed his foot back into his shoe and dashed out of the apartment as quickly as he could.

***

Imelda’s head hurt so badly.

She forced her eyes open in a tight squint against the blazing light coming through the closed bedroom curtains. Something shifted near her head and she winced at the jab of pain the slight sound made in her head.

What. Had happened.

Everything was jumbled and messy inside her head as she painfully propped herself up on an elbow. She spotted a bottle of painkillers on her nightstand and flailed out an arm, trying three times before she managed to latch onto the bottle. It took her another minute of struggling before she got the cap off and then managed to dry-swallow the largest dose she knew she could reasonably be safe taking.

She lay back heavily on her pillow, groaning. Pepita rubbed up against her face and Imelda absently scratched at the cat’s ears as she closed her eyes against the light in the room.

“What happened girl?” Imelda asked.

She didn’t remember a thing about the night before. She couldn’t remember being this hungover since…gosh, probably her freshman year at university? It must have been some kind of party, but why would she have been at a party?

He went to move Pepita’s tail from were it was caught against her neck, but came away with a strip of purple and blue cloth in her hand instead. She stared at it for a long, confused moment.

Imelda jolted up in bed, a spike of pain shooting through her skull.

There was a man’s necktie in her bed.

Oh no. No no no.

She threw back the covers to find she was in her black v-neck dress, one of her shoes lost among the covers, the other nowhere to be found.

Her head was pounding, but she dived for her purse where it was sitting on the ground. She fished out her phone, there were five missed calls from Ceci and a barrage of texts.

_How was the Christmas party?_

_Did you have fun?_

_Meldaaaaa, are you avoiding me?_

_You better text back hermana, I’m calling the police if I don’t hear from you by eleven._

_Don’t test me on this one, pick up. I just want to know you’re safe. <3_

The Christmas party! That’s what had happened last night, wasn’t it. Imelda glanced at the time, ten-thirty. She typed out a response to Ceci as quickly as she could.

_I’m fine I think, just woke up, I’m safe. SUPER bad hangover, I’m blaming you._

Imelda bit her lip as she hit send, looking at the mystery tie lying on her bed like it was a snake. No, she’d try to figure it out before telling Ceci about it.

She stood, and had just picked up the tie when there was a knock at the door. Imelda jumped at the noise, her head ringing. Pepita pricked up her ears and jumped off the bed, trotting out of the bedroom to investigate.

Who on earth would be knocking this early on a Saturday?

Imelda followed the cat down the hallway, quietly padding to the front door and then leaning forward to look through the peephole.

Standing on her doorstep was Héctor Rivera, looking over his shoulder as if he were a little nervous. In one hand he seemed to be holding a mug of what looked a lot like suero, and in the other he was holding…a shoe?

No.

That was her shoe. Her black ballet flat with the rose embroidery.

Imelda choked as she reeled back from the door, looking down at the tie in her hand as a scrap of memory from the night before blurrily resurfaced. The memory of her pulling Héctor down by this very tie, which was horrifyingly too much information, but also far too little.

Imelda moaned quietly, pressing the palms of her hands against her aching eyes, her cheeks feeling like they were on fire with blushing. Why had she gone to the party? Why had she gotten drunk? She wouldn’t have touched a bit of alcohol if she’d known Héctor would be there. She knew her own weaknesses, and she knew that the toused-haired teacher which soft eyes and a softer heart was one of them, she would have been smarter than to get drunk around him.

There was another knock at the door behind her. She grimaced in indecision. Héctor knew what had happened last night, if she ignored him it would only be postponing the inevitable.

“Imelda?” Héctor called through the door, “I’m just checking to see if you’re alright, you, uh, you had a bit of an exciting night.”

Imelda desperately wanted to disappear completely, but the last shred of dignity inside her demanded that she settle this now.

She nearly bit through her own lip in almost tearful frustration as she adjusted her dress, glancing in the hallway mirror to quickly run her fingers through her hair and wipe away the mascara smudged under her eyes. It would have to do.

She jerked open the door, making Héctor jump hard enough to drop her shoe.

“Buenos días!” Héctor said, quickly picking it up again and flashing her one of his stupid, distracting smiles.

Imelda opened the door, silently pointing for him to come in, which he did. She was not going to have this discussion in the open.

“I brought you suero.” Héctor said meekly, offering her the mug when the door was shut behind them. “I figured you’d need it.”

“Rivera, I need you to be completely honest with me.” Imelda said, forcing herself to be every inch his boss, despite being barefoot with her hair down. “Did we…last night…did…”

Héctor’s eyes widened, “No! No no no! Nothing happened, I swear, all I did was walk you home, I promise.”

Imelda said several very harsh things to the part of her that had the nerve to want to feel disappointed at that.

She was a professional.

She was also now vaguely remembering playing with Héctor’s hair, and it was making her fingers twitch, but she miraculously managed to maintain her composure.

“I, uh, I don’t suppose you’d like to go to breakfast and talk it over?” Héctor rubbed the back of his neck, and the motion pulled at Imelda’s heartstrings for some reason. “You said some interesting things last night I wouldn’t mind getting some clarification on.”

What did that mean?

Imelda wondered what would happen if she said yes. Wondered what would happen if they did have breakfast together, wondered what she had said the night before, wondered if her vague memory of kissing him was real or imagined. Imelda wondered what it might be like to kiss him when she was sober.

She was suddenly wondering a lot of things.

“I think,” Imelda said slowly, “that if you value your employment that it would probably be best if you forgot anything I may have said while under the influence.”

Héctor nodded, “Of course.”

But he didn’t look nearly as crushed as he should have. In fact, she could have sworn there was still a smile hiding in his expression. She had no doubt in her mind that he absolutely was not about to forget about the night before. Which really wasn’t fair since she couldn’t seem to remember most of it.

Although, more bits and pieces were starting to drift back now, the memory of him humming that song she’d often heard him sing before, of him…carrying her?

“Well, this is for you.” He said, offering her the mug of suero. “And here’s your shoe. It fell off on our way home.”

“Here’s your tie, I think.” She said, trading the strip of cloth for the mug. It would have been rude not to take it. “How did I end up with that?”

“It was already loose and you ah, you wouldn’t let it go when I tried to leave.” Héctor said, a crooked grin on his face.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” Imelda said, pretending she didn’t know perfectly well that she was blushing again. “Thank you for getting me home safely.”

“Anytime.” Héctor said, bowing with a smile. He straightened and looked like he wanted to say something else, but just shook his head and let himself out.

As soon as he’d closed the door behind him Imelda rushed to look through the peephole. Héctor was standing on the other side of the door, hands in his pockets, looking out over the parking lot at nothing in particular. Then he shook his head with a smile, and walked out of her sight.

She could hear him humming something cheerful and upbeat as he walked away.

Imelda let out a long breath and leaned heavily against the door. She sipped quietly at her salty drink, listening to Héctor’s song until it was out of earshot.

Pepita meowed and Imelda looked down to see the cat winding around her bare ankles.

“Alright, let’s get you some food, calm down.” Imelda grumbled, settling back into the headache of death now that she wasn’t distracted anymore.

She was going to feed Pepita, take a very long shower, and then probably a nap while she waited for her hangover to wear off. It was going to be a normal, quiet Saturday at home, and she was not going to dwell on the night before.

Everything would be back to normal on Monday.

But she would never be able to tell Ceci that. Ceci was far too good at telling when Imelda was lying.


	2. A Professional Chat

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the disastrous staff Christmas party, and Imelda was slowly going insane.

She’d explicitly told Héctor to forget about it, that things were going to go back to normal, and had told herself that too. Unfortunately her lie had been a thin one to start with, and it had steadily worn itself away to nothing.

The first Monday had been alright, she’d barely even seen him on Tuesday. They’d had a perfectly casual chat in the break room on Wednesday, giving Imelda hope that she really would eventually be able to stop thinking about him.

But then on Thursday he’d worn _that tie._

The stupid blue and purple striped tie that she’d woken up with the morning after the Christmas party, the one that she’d apparently pulled off of him while she’d been drunk.

He’d actually had the nerve to wear it to work.

Imelda was furious, especially since he was pretending to be oblivious to how badly it was distracting her. He was all innocent smiles when they saw each other in the hallways, even when Imelda walked past his classroom every day the next week to see whether he’d worn it again.

Which he did, twice.

It was Friday when she finally snapped, exactly two weeks since the Christmas party. Her focus had been completely wrecked all week and it needed to end now.

Imelda was slamming papers into their correct filing cabinet drawers during the lunch hour when she heard a knock at her office door.

“Come in.” She snapped.

“Señora Martinez said you wanted to see me?” Héctor said, stepping into her office and closing the door behind him. He had his idiot smile on as always, and was wearing the tie.

Imelda slammed the drawer closed and turned to face him, folding her arms as they both stood in front of her desk.

“Should…I take a seat?” Héctor asked, looking confused at her harsh attitude. As if he didn’t know perfectly well what this was all about.

“No.” Imelda said. He didn’t deserve to sit, let him feel awkward. “I called you here to discuss your recent unprofessional workplace performance.”     

All the ease in Héctor’s expression finally evaporated and he turned a little pale, making Imelda feel just a bit smug inside.

“Is this about having everyone lay on the floor while listening to Vivaldi last week?” Héctor asked, looking concerned, “Because that’s not-”

“No, the carpet’s disgusting in the band room but that’s not what-”

“Maestra Marcela is complaining about the noise level of the estudiantina again isn’t she?” Héctor sighed.

He looked weary as he ran his hand through his hair, making Imelda forget whatever it was that he’d just said.

“No.” Imelda guessed, digging her nails into her arm in an effort to concentrate.

“Then what?” Héctor asked. He was unconsciously holding his left arm, a nervous gesture she’d noticed once or twice. Was that the arm he had his guitar tattoo on?

She dug her nails in harder. She needed to get to the point.

“I called you in to ask you to…”

Great.

It was only then that she angrily realized exactly how difficult of a situation he had put her in. Her demands suddenly sounded completely idiotic. How was she supposed to tell him to stop being attractive without making it sound like she was attracted to him?

“Is…it about me being late to school?” Héctor guessed hesitantly, looking endearingly concerned at the long pause. “I’m sorry Imelda, I’ve only been a couple minutes late a few times this week, I’ve really been trying to be better about that.”

“No, but that is a talk for another time.” Imelda said, pressing her thumb against her eyebrow in annoyance.

Why had she called him into her office in the first place? What part of her had thought this would be a good idea?

Héctor waited expectantly as another uncomfortable pause stretched between them. Everything Imelda could have said had completely evaporated from her mind, leaving her even more irritated than before.

“So, why am I here?” Héctor finally asked.

“Your tie.” Imelda said, feeling a little lightheaded.

“My…tie?” Héctor said, blinking.

“It’s distracting.”

Héctor looked down, as if checking to see what tie he was wearing. His eyes widened in realization.

_As if._

As if he didn’t already know, as if he hadn’t purposely been wearing it to distract her. What a liar, what an actor. And even worse, now he was smiling again, that awful idiotic half-smirk that made her want to slap him.  

“My apologies, directora.” Héctor looked like he was fighting back laughter, having the nerve to look at ease in her own office. “I didn’t know it’d be so distracting.”

"No, it’s not like that,” Imelda said irritably. She desperately hoped that she wasn’t blushing, but judging by his grin she absolutely was.  

“Oh?” he said, starting to sound dangerously like he was teasing her, “I didn’t know there were different kinds of distracting.”

“The unprofessional kind.” she said, trying desperately to get the upper hand again.

“Should I take it off?” Héctor offered, his long fingers reaching for the knot at his throat, “Would that be less distracting?”

“Stop!” Imelda snapped, grabbing the tie before either of them knew it, all she could think of was that under no circumstances could Héctor be allowed to take off his tie in her office.

But now they were far too close to each other, and to make matters even worse her hand seemed to be locked onto the strip of fabric as she glared up at him, seething with anger.

How dare he put her in this position, she was his _boss_ and this was _her_ office, and despite all that he was still looking down at her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Imelda?” Héctor managed, sounding suddenly breathless.

Which only made her even angrier.

She yanked him down by his tie and kissed him with enough anger that Héctor stumbled back against her desk. As soon as he got his bearings he was frustratingly gentle as he kissed her back, making her redouble her efforts, all harsh movement and sharp teeth.

Imelda vaguely registered the moment that his tie came off in her fingers. By then his hands were resting lightly on her waist as she leaned up against him. By then the sharp edge of her anger had been spent, swallowed up by his warm breath and his soft touch, always gentle, no matter what she did.

It just wasn’t fair.

She was supposed to be the one in control, always in control, and this was the most out of control she’d felt in years. The worst part was that she liked it, that she somehow felt safe losing control with Héctor Rivera.

But no.

She was la directora.

He was a teacher.

She had to get control again, now, and the only way to get control over this kind of situation was to end it.

Imelda pulled away. Héctor leaned forward to follow her, but she put a hand on his chest to stop him, trying to ignore the way she could feel his heart singing beneath her hand. Trying to ignore that her other hand was still holding his tie.

“Never,” Imelda said, looking him straight in the eye. “breathe a word of this.”

She tried to ignore his sloppy smile as she handed him back his tie. He looked at it, then at her, a dazed sounding chuckle escaping him.

“I don’t know how to tie it.” He confessed, looking incredibly amused at himself under the circumstances.

“I don’t believe you.” Imelda said.

“No, honestly, my roommate always does it for me.” Héctor said, gamely looping it around his neck and squinting at the tie as he demonstrated his lack of skill.

Imelda watched him try several times, his attempts getting worse and worse. It was when she found herself starting to smile at how bad he really was that she swatted his hands away from the cloth. She’d had years of experience tying her brother’s ties for them, and her movements were crisp and precise as she started knotting the tie back into place. But now they were so close all over again, probably closer than necessary.

No, definitely closer than necessary.

Imelda could feel his breath as she worked, she was moving far slower than she should have been. She had never imagined that being this close to Héctor would be so intoxicating, messing with her head.

Especially when she felt his hands brush against her hips halfway through the knot and heard a very soft “Imelda” right beside her ear.

“That’s la directora to you.” She said, finishing the knot and sliding it into place.

He was so close that his cheek nudged against her head as he smiled. “Of course, la directora.”

The tie was tied, but she held onto it for a long moment as they looked at each other.

How were they going to go back from this? The Christmas party had been one thing, but this time Imelda couldn’t even say she was drunk.

More importantly, she wasn’t sure anymore if she wanted things to go back to normal.

But she couldn’t afford to lose control again.

Not today.

Imelda summoned all of her willpower and pushed him back. “Your next class starts in five minutes, Rivera. Don’t be late.” She said, pulling the collar of her own blouse straight.

She would have to check her hair and make-up before daring to leave her office. They were both lucky that Héctor’s hair was always a mess.

“Alright, la directora.” Héctor said, somehow pronouncing her title in a way that made her blush a little.

Imelda stiffly opened the office door and he obediently walked out, looking just a little drunk as he sent one last smile over his shoulder.

She glanced out after him, just long enough to see that her secretary hadn’t looked up from her computer, and then quickly shut the door. Imelda leaned up against the closed door, her mind an uncomfortable whirl of thoughts. The dazed fluttery feeling inside her was quickly giving way to something a little more shaky.

What if word got out?

What if Héctor spilled to the rest of the staff? She had no idea what would happen, but she was suddenly very scared to find out. She’d worked so hard for this position, la directora at twenty-eight, and it mattered very much to her what other people thought.

The longer she stood there, the more clearly she could feel the beginning of a stress headache coming on.

Imelda had never taken a sick day in her life, but powering through the rest of that afternoon, locked securely in her office while she pretended to herself that she was doing paperwork, was perhaps the closest she ever got to calling it quits before the end of the workday.

But as uneasy as she felt, and with good reason, there was no denying how good it had felt to finally kiss him.

And there was no denying that things were never, ever going back to normal.


	3. An Intervention

Héctor was absently humming in disoriented snatches of minor key when he arrived home from work. Which Ernesto knew meant that something was bugging Héctor, and that he was trying to ignore it.

Ernesto stifled a sigh, pretending to be working on his laptop as he watched Héctor toss his keys onto the table and go to the fridge.

It was the third time this week that he’d come home in this state, and Ernesto already knew what it meant. That viper of a directora was still yanking Héctor around, like cat playing with a dying mouse, and Héctor still hadn’t pushed back.

“How was work?” Ernesto asked, reigning in his irritated disgust for the moment.

“Good.” Héctor replied absently, continuing to stare inside the fridge, like it held the answers to the universe.

“Oh yeah?” Ernesto said, “And how’s your not-girlfriend?”

“It’s…I don’t know. It’s not like that, she’s just…” Héctor grimaced to himself, leaning heavily against the fridge doorway as he continued to stare at nothing. “It’s complicated.”

Ernesto wanted badly to throw something out the window. Maybe Héctor, maybe himself.

He’d actually let himself hope that post-college Héctor had grown out of this ridiculous romance nonsense. It had been years since Héctor had really gotten tangled up with a girl, since he’d spent every moment staring into space with obnoxious pining sighs. But here they were again, and once again, it was up to Ernesto to get him out of it.

“She kissed you last week, sí?” Ernesto asked, closing his laptop with a crisp snap.

“Yeah.” Héctor said, absently touching his mouth.

“And she kissed you again on Monday?”

“Well yeah, but that was kinda spur of the moment too. We were just going to talk about the first time and-”

“And how about Wednesday?” Ernesto folded his arms. “Was that ‘spur of the moment’ too when she pounced on you in the breakroom?”

“It’s not like that Ernesto, she didn’t ‘pounce’ on me.” Héctor rolled his eyes, “She’s my boss, we both know we like each other but it’s a complicated situation. I’m just following her lead.”

“She’s using you.” Ernesto said flatly, “She doesn’t actually care about you Teto, she just wants you as a make-out partner and you aren’t doing anything to stop her.”

Not that Ernesto necessarily saw anything wrong with noncommittal making out as a rule. After all, it was the all the fun with none of the commitment of an actual relationship.

But that kind of thing just didn’t work for someone like Héctor.

If there was one thing Ernesto knew after spending a lifetime as Héctor’s best friend, it was that Héctor became insufferably attached to people, regardless of if they actually cared about him or not. Ernesto was sure it was a terrible side effect of having been raised by an absentee airhead of a mother for the first few years of his life, chronically starving his friend for real affection as a child.

Ernesto could play the noncommittal game with the best of them, he could keep himself from caring, but not Héctor. Héctor cared deeply about  _everything_  and Ernesto had seen him deeply hurt by thoughtless and flippant women their whole lives.

Imelda was not going to be added to that list.

“She’s not using me, she’s not like that.” Héctor said, frowning as he finally pulled the milk out of the fridge. “We’re just taking it slow. If I let her lead then I won’t spook her away by accident, we’re just both a little unsure right now.”

“Héctor, sit down. Do you remember Luciana?” Ernesto asked, pointing at the seat across from him at the table.

“Ernesto I really don’t want to-”

“Sit down, Héctor.”

Héctor stared back at him, not breaking eye contact as he took a drink of milk right from the carton.

“Héctor.” Ernesto said.

Héctor took a long moment to screw the cap back on the milk carton and then let it drop on the table before taking a seat.

“What?”

“Back in high school you were chasing after Luciana Sanchez.” Ernesto said, choosing to ignore Héctor’s attitude. He only ever got defensive when “love” was involved, but Ernesto knew how to ignore it. “You were convinced the two of you were destined for true love in the stars or whatever, like usual, and you remember what happened?”

“It didn’t work out, it was a high school crush, Ernesto.” Héctor said, idly picking at the edge of the table.

“What happened was that she led you on Héctor. You followed her around for months, doing whatever she told you to. She’d get you to drive her around and buy her food and tell you that of course you two would be a thing, eventually. And the whole time she was seeing another guy and you were too blind to see it for an  _entire school year_. She kept deflecting you and because you never actually pushed her on anything you looked like a fool when she finally dropped you.”

“I was a kid Ernesto,” Héctor said, looking away as he kicked his shoes off. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

“It wasn’t because you  _were_  a kid Héctor, it’s because you  _are_ spineless.” Ernesto said, jabbing a finger against his laptop in emphasis. “If this Imelda woman doesn’t actually want you, then you shouldn’t be giving her the time of day. You need to be a man and push the issue, don’t let her yank you around to get what she wants. You are so desperate to be liked that you hang onto women that don’t deserve you Héctor. They should be going out of their way to come to you, not the other way around.”

“I just, I don’t want her to think I’m coming on too strong, Ernesto.” Héctor leaned forward, ending up face-down on the table, his voice sounding very tired. “I don’t know what to do…it’s just, I didn’t think I’d get this far so fast and now I’m stuck. I can’t imagine life without her, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin what we already have!”

“If you don’t do anything it’s just going to be another Luciana all over again.” Ernesto said, sitting up a little straighter, relieved he’d broken through to Héctor so quickly. This woman really must be wearing Héctor down even more badly than he thought if Héctor had caved this easily.

“Imelda isn’t a Luciana, she’s perfect, I’m the one that’s messing up.” Héctor’s voice was muffled from being face-down on the table, but Ernesto could hear the defensiveness.

“Sure, whatever,” Ernesto rolled his eyes, “but still, if you try to ignore it it’s going to turn out the same way. What you need to do is go up to her and establish your dominance, show her you’re in control of the relationship. If she doesn’t like it then she’s not worth your time anyway. But no more of this moping around alright? You’ve been a distracted mess for almost two weeks now.”

_And if you can get rid of her now she won’t be able to hurt you later when she drops you anyway._

“I know I need to do  _something,_  but I don’t want to be a jerk.” Héctor said miserably.

“Well, what  _do_  you want?” Ernesto asked.

“Just…I don’t know…an actual date would be really nice.” Héctor said, tipping his head to the side.

Ernesto sighed. His friend’s sweet naivety, even as an adult, still blew his mind sometimes. Which was why he had to protect him, otherwise the world would eat him alive.

“Okay. A real date, that seems reasonable.” Ernesto said, biting back some other suggestions he had in mind. He had Héctor’s attention and he needed to keep it if he was going to help him get rid of Imelda. “Which means that you are going to tell her that’s what you want. No more of this ‘taking is slow’ crap, you’re going to go to her door and tell her that either you get to take her out on a real date, or else you’re through, that you’re going to let her play you for free affection anymore.”

“What, right now?” Héctor asked, sitting up and looking panicked.

“Of course not you idiot, you’re a mess.” Ernesto scoffed. “Go take a shower, put something decent on, and then you’re going over there.”

“Maybe I should wait.” Héctor said, rubbing his arm nervously. “Like, a least a few days?”

“Maybe you should shut up and go take a shower.” Ernesto said, pulling open his laptop again to shut down the conversation, ignoring the whimpering whine from the other side of the table.

“But what if she doesn’t want to go out with me? What if it’s too much?”

“Then she’s not worth your time.”

“But what if I screw it up?”

“Then you’re not worth her time.”

“Ernesto.”

“Shower.”

Ernesto refused to look up from his email as Héctor made a few more distressed noises.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” Héctor said, getting up from the table and heading to the bathroom.

Ernesto didn’t look over until he heard the bathroom door click shut. A few minutes later he heard the shower start.

He sighed, getting up to put the now contaminated milk back in the fridge. Getting Héctor to fight for himself was always a struggle, he was lucky Héctor was in love enough to push for it this time. It meant that Ernesto wouldn’t have to get directly involved, which may or may not have happened a few times in the past when Hector wouldn’t snap out of it.

With any luck, Imelda would drop him as soon as Héctor showed some spine. Of course it would require some clean-up afterward, there would be tears, but Ernesto had plenty of experience with taking Héctor out for the night to drink off a break-up. It was one of the realities of living with an utterly ridiculous romantic.

Ernesto set the milk back on the shelf inside the fridge, keeping it far from his own marked carton, and then closed the fridge door, glancing towards the bathroom.

Héctor always followed his heart, but someone had to step up to make sure he didn’t follow it right off a cliff and hurt himself.

Ernesto shook his head, sitting back down at his computer. The sooner they got this over with the better. That woman had already confused Héctor enough, he didn’t want to think about what would happen if she had the time to really get her claws in him.

Ernesto could already tell that there was something different about Imelda, for some reason she was someone who would really be able to hurt Héctor badly. 

And he did not like that at all.

***

“You can’t keep doing this Imelda, that poor man sounds like a sweetheart.” Ceci said.

“I know. He really is, I just, I don’t know what to do.” Imelda said, adjusting her phone between her shoulder and her ear as she stooped to pour food into Pepita’s bowl. “I just feel like I’m stuck, it’s like we’re in this weird limbo area, he doesn’t make any moves unless I do, but I can’t avoid it since we’re together at work all day, but I really can’t afford to have this kind of relationship. It could ruin both our careers if someone found out.”

“But you like him. A lot.” Ceci said through the phone. “Why not just go with it? You’re smart, you could make it work.”

“It’s just for fun Ceci, it’s not actually anything serious.” Imelda sighed, straightening. “And I don’t know, I just don’t think he’s my type.”

“Well, you’re awful worked up for it being just for fun.” Ceci observed, “And what is that supposed to mean, ‘your type’? Because you haven’t really dated anyone seriously since we were still living on base, and they were all jerks.”

“Okay first of all, ouch, thanks for bringing that up.” Imelda rolled her eyes, taking the phone in her hand again and walking over to sit on the couch. “I don’t know, he’s just…”

“Not a jerk?”

“Well yeah, he’s very sweet, but he’s also just, he just has this energy, he’s always so happy.”

“And that’s…bad?”

“I don’t know, none of this was supposed to happen in the first place.” Imelda leaned back to lay on the couch, covering her eyes. “I guess I’m just waiting for the best opportunity to let him down easy.”

“And kissing him in the meantime.” Imelda could hear Ceci’s cool smile and arched eyebrow through the phone.

“Shut up, you don’t know me.” Imelda said.

“Uh huh.” Ceci chuckled. “ _Pobre_  Imelda, too attracted to a guy who is too sweet to cut off for no reason.”

“Stop it.” Imelda curled up on her side, shutting her eyes against her friend’s teasing.

The truth was that she’d had an uneasy feeling in her gut the last two weeks, a feeling that only seemed to go away when she was with Héctor. She knew she was being childish, that she was being unprofessional, but seeing him at work had become the highlight of every day. The way he casually brushed her arm when they stole a few minutes to talk in the breakroom together, the way he was always doing or bringing her things that she needed before she even asked, his adorably knowing smile when they ducked into her office for another “chat.”  

She liked him, a lot. Too much.

“Alright,” Ceci said, “so if you’re so dead set on ignoring this, then what exactly are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t know. I-” Imelda looked up as she was cut off by a knock at the front door. “Sorry, one second Ceci, someone’s at the door.”

Imelda got up, slipping the phone into her pocket as she walked to the front door. She briefly checked her hair in the hallway mirror, then opened the door.

A man stood on her doormat, wearing a new set of clothes than he’d worn to work, something nicer and more casual. 

“Héctor?” Imelda’s heart jumped. 

“Holá, Imelda.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck, looking endearingly nervous. “I know this is really sudden, but I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me. For real, like for dinner.”

Imelda blinked, completely stunned.

“I mean, it’s, it’s because, well, I mean,” Héctor continued, tumbling over his own words in a rush, “I know that we said this is just for fun, whatever it is that we have between us right now, but I still want to try to do this right. I know this is all weird and complicated, but I don’t just want to kiss you. I mean, I really like kissing you, you seem to like kissing me too, but I just, well, like…”

He stopped, looking flustered as he put a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes for a moment before starting over.

“What I’m trying to say,” he said, sounding like he was consciously slowing himself down. “is I was wondering if you would join me for dinner?”

“Right now?” Imelda said, the question coming out as her brain still scrambled to process.

“Yes?” Héctor said with a crooked smile, “I mean, if you want?”

Imelda had just been wishing for the chance to let down Héctor easily, to end whatever it was that had accidentally happened between them, and here it was, the perfect opportunity literally on her doorstep.

She could turn him down right here and right now, she could finally explain that it wasn’t going to work, could apologize for leading him on, and then things could go back to normal. Her problems would be over.

“Sure, let me get my shoes, alright?” Imelda said, her smile a product of the lightheadedness that washed over her.

“Of course, yeah!” Héctor said, his face lighting up with a surprised smile, “Whatever you need, take your time.”

“Okay, I’ll be right out, just, just give me a few minutes.” Imelda said, nodding and closing the door.

She turned and stared at the hallway.

It was fine, after all, she couldn’t just say  _no_. That would be incredibly rude after he’d gotten up the courage to come over and actually ask her out, right?

Imelda pulled on her boots, sighing at herself. If she was being honest she knew she hadn’t said yes because she was being polite. She’d said yes because she was curious. She’d said yes because, against her better judgment, she really  _did_  want to go out with Héctor Rivera.

She caught her phone as it nearly fell out of her pocket, remembering Ceci’s call.

“Hey, Ceci?” She said into the phone, pulling on a jacket as she dashed to the bathroom to touch up her hair and makeup. “Okay so don’t yell at me, but he just showed up to my apartment and now we’re going to dinner. ”

“Wait, you what? Who, Rivera?” Ceci asked.

“Yes, he just showed up and asked me if I wanted to go on a real date. I said yes.”

“Okay, well, good! Don’t mess this up hermana. Does this mean you’re actually dating now?”

“I don’t know,” Imelda said, grabbing her eyeliner off the bathroom counter and leaning forward to touch it up in the mirror. “I’m just going to see what happens. If it doesn’t go well then I have a good reason for shutting it all down.”

“Ever the optimist.” Ceci said dryly. “Call me as soon as you get back, alright?”

“I will.” Imelda said, then hung up and stuffed her phone back into her pocket.

Imelda had no idea what to expect, had no idea what she even really wanted to happen.

All she really knew was that however things ended tonight, it was going to make for quite an interesting conversation with Ceci afterward.


	4. The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! So if you’ve kept up with the teacher au you know that we’re always making oodles of side content outside of the main storyline in the form of oneshots and drabbles and headcanons. This “first time around” flashback romance storyline is one of those extras, and it was originally going to be a oneshot (a phrase I’ve arranged to eventually be carved on my headstone at this point.)
> 
> There were originally going to be several more chapters for this storyline, portraying what it was like while they were dating the first time, showing how flawed and painful it was, but I realized recently that through the several drabbles and oneshots I’ve written in the meantime, I’ve ended up writing it all already!
> 
> Because I’ve already said everything I would have said, I’ve decided to cut to the chase and get to the good/bad stuff that we all known is coming by getting to the finale of the flashback.
> 
> Here’s a quick list of suggestion of what you can read if you want to review their relationship together:
> 
> Domestic drabbles, some of the first time dating and some for the second. If it’s the second time then I’m always sure to mention Miguel in there somewhere so you can tell them apart: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690584/chapters/34207565#workskin
> 
> A good example of how much Imelda gave back in their relationship: http://slusheeduck.tumblr.com/post/175476163563/i-just-saw-the-prompt-list-and-read-through-it
> 
> A good example of how tense things were the first time around: https://im-fairly-whitty.tumblr.com/post/173789267544/may-i-ask-for-some-teacherau-handholding 
> 
> This one is especially important, please read: http://slusheeduck.tumblr.com/post/175445687788/from-the-prompt-list-part-2-for-teacher-au
> 
> One of the original Scribblrhob comics showing Héctor accidentally letting slip his relationship with Imelda in his class: https://scribblrhob.tumblr.com/post/168689187996/people-seemed-to-like-the-teacher-h%C3%A9ctor-au-and-i
> 
> And now, without further ado, we now move forward in time from Héctor and Imelda’s first date, to immediately after Héctor lets slip about their relationship in his class.

 

“Imelda, I-”

“You’ve  _ruined_  it, Rivera.”

Héctor flinched as she snapped at him, holding his own arm tightly enough to cut off blood flow as he cowered on the other side of her desk.

“I can’t believe you messed up this badly, you had  _one job._ ” Imelda slammed her hand on the desk, making him jump.

“I-, I’m sorry Imelda,” Héctor said, trying to force himself to stop shaking, the blood frantically rushing in his ears was nearly blocking out his own thoughts, “I messed up, this is all my fault, one of the students got ahold of my phone and they saw your texts and then you came in and they realized who “Imelda” was and they’re all bright kids diosa, I couldn’t-”

 “Don’t. Call. Me. That.”

 If Héctor could feel his arm anymore, the pain of his own nails digging into his sleeve would have been alarming. What he felt instead was the very familiar sensation of sliding backward toward a cliff edge, with nothing, and no one, to grab onto.

 “Imelda, I-”

 “Don’t call me that either.”

 No.

He was losing her.

He had promised himself it would be different this time and he was  _losing her_.

“Please.” Héctor said, his voice shaking, “Lo siento, I’ve messed up, but it could still work? I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about, about us, but it was going to have to come out sometime, right?”

“The agreement we had was that our relationship would be kept secret until  _I_ said it could be made public,” the pencil in Imelda’s vice grip trembled slightly, “and you broke your side of the agreement.”

“I know this is my fault,” Héctor pleaded, not daring to go around the desk to her, instead getting on one knee at the front of her desk, making himself smaller, “but I don’t think it’s really so bad, we can-”

“Not really so bad?” Imelda barked, “You broke our agreement, my trust, you’ve exposed us to the entire school. My position as the director will be questioned, my status as a woman with authority in a white collar job will be laughed at. Everything I’ve worked for in my career, my reputation, my position, my respect, it could all be gone tomorrow because I was caught secretly dating my  _employee_.”

There was a bitter metallic taste in Héctor’s mouth. It took his reeling brain a long moment to realize he’d bit his lip at the venom that had been in Imelda’s last word.

“What can I do?” Héctor asked, “Tell me what to do, anything, I’ll do anything to fix this, I can make it right again.”

She stared at him, making him shake as he waited. Hoping, praying she would give him some impossible task he could accomplish, some order that he could carry out to earn her back, to show his devotion. Something, anything, to fix this.

She drew in a shaky breath and reached behind her neck. A moment later her hand came away with a thin silver chain, pulling out the violet pendant that she had been wearing under her blouse. The necklace he had given her two months ago. The one gift he’d  _known_  she wouldn’t be able to turn away because it was exactly perfect for her.

He watched it clatter to her desk.

“Take that.” Imelda pointed to the necklace, then the door, “And go home.”

Everything inside Héctor’s brain jostled and screamed at such a high pitch that it all blurred together into a shrill deafening static. Leaving him silently staring at her.

“We’re through, Rivera.” Imelda said, staring him down unflinchingly, “It’s over. I’m sending you home for the rest of the day. Do not attempt to contact me. Do not address me as anything but “La Directora.” Do not discuss our relationship, or this talk, with anyone. Claro?”

Héctor couldn’t move, so someone else must have made his hand reach out and gently pick the necklace up off the desk, cradling it to his chest.

“Please.” he said softly. So softly he wasn’t sure if he’d actually said it out loud.

“If you value your employment I advise you to get out of my school immediately.” Imelda said.

Héctor took a step back. This was all wrong. But somehow…he’d known it would happen eventually hadn’t he? Hadn’t he seen this exact moment in his nightmares for months now? No one ever stayed, they all left eventually.

Because he always ruined it.

“Leave.” Imelda said sharply, and the break in her voice shattered whatever was left whole inside Héctor.

“I’m sorry.” Héctor whispered, then turned and ducked out of her office.

He walked in a shell-shocked daze down the hallway, and out the front door, seeing nothing as his feet took him across the parking lot. He’d left his keys in his classroom, but he walked right past his motorcycle.

He didn’t see the way that Imelda closed the office door behind him and locked it. How she sank down to curl up against the door. Or how she did  _not_ cry until her throat was raw and the rest of the school had gone home for the day.

Her secretary listening outside for a full hour after closing, biting her thumb before finally deciding to let tragedy run its course, and leaving for home.

***

Ernesto looked up from his laptop when he heard the crying.

He sat up straight at the kitchen table, listening hard in the empty apartment. Héctor was out late again, undoubtedly somewhere with his terrible boss girlfriend, leaving the place quiet for the night.

At least, it had  _sounded_  like crying. Sounded like an adult crying actually…but…maybe he’d misheard?

He listened for another moment, and then slowly went back to typing, lightly tapping to keys, still on edge.

There it was again.

Ernesto snapped his computer shut, getting up from the table as he zeroed in on the noise, a bad feeling already in his stomach. He strode to the front door, jerking it open.

“ _Héctor?_ ”

Curled up on the dark stoop was Héctor, long legs folded up on themselves, apparently trying to look as small as possible as he clutched something to his chest.

Ernesto could barely see his face in the dim porch light but the strangled sounds of grief told him plenty about the tears he would see if he could.

“Héctor, are you alright? What happened? Are you hurt? What’s wrong?” Ernesto asked, dragging Héctor up to his feet and pulling him inside as quickly as he could.

“I-I’m sorry,” Héctor choked, his voice raw, like he’d been crying for a long time already, “I forgot my keys, and, and I know you hate it when I cry, and, and, and-”

“Héctor, what  _happened_?” Ernesto demanded, looking his friend over, unable to find any obvious signs of injury.

“I ruined it.” Héctor said, somehow managing to look small even as they stood in the entryway, shoulders slumped and head hanging as he kept clutching something to his chest. Something that left a silver chain trailing out from between his fingers, “I-I ruined it, and, and now she’s gone.”

Ernesto stared at Héctor, his hand on his shoulders as Héctor dissolved into a fresh wave of sobs, unable to meet his eyes.

“She…? Imelda left you?” Ernesto asked, his grip on Héctor’s shoulders tightening as his friend tried to go limp again, “That icy, heartless-”

He’d known this would happen, he’d  _known_  it, he’d tried to warn Héctor. But being right didn’t make things any better now that tragedy had finally struck.

“It was, my, my fault.” Héctor sobbed, shaking his head, looking like he was doing his best just to keep standing.

Ernesto looked at him, scrambling to try and figure out what to do. Héctor was always upset when girls left him, but this time felt different, this time felt dangerously bad. Ernesto had to fix this, fast.

“Have you had anything to drink yet?” Ernesto asked, dragging Héctor into the kitchen after him, not daring to leave him alone like this for even a second as he rifled through the cupboards, finding two bottles of tequila.

“I don’t want to drink.” Héctor said miserably.

“Too bad. We’re going to the roof.” Ernesto said, stuffing his keys in his pocket, grabbing a blanket off the couch, and pulling Héctor back out into the night toward the service stairs.

The night was a clear but moonless one, leaving the rooftop dark and empty under the stars.

“Sit.” Ernesto commanded, wrapping the blanket tightly around Héctor’s shoulders.

Héctor obeyed, sitting up against a cooling vent, tears silently running down his face.

“Drink this.” Ernesto said, prying the top off one of the bottles of tequila with his pocket knife and handing it to Héctor, who took it mechanically. “Drink it until you’re ready to tell me exactly what that woman did to you.”

Héctor obediently took a long drink, a  _worryingly_  long one, and then silently pulled the blanket tighter around himself, closing his eyes against the tears that ran down his face.

Ernesto grit his teeth as he watched Héctor’s shoulder shake as he cried silently. Whatever that ice queen had done to him, it had hurt Héctor far worse than any girl before. It made Ernesto want to march back down the stairs and pound on her apartment door until he got some answers.

This wasn’t going to be something he could shake Héctor out of. He could already tell it was going to be a long time before Héctor would be able to speak.

Ernesto grunted as he sat down next to Héctor, starting to pry the cap off his own bottle. They were both going to need it tonight.

“If you need to cry then get it all out.” Ernesto said, taking a sip from his bottle, “I’m not leaving until you’re alright, got that?”

Héctor hesitantly leaned against him, and Ernesto took another sip, his silence telling Héctor that it was alright this  _one_  time. Héctor curled up against his shoulder and continued to cry, a little less silently now.

Why did Héctor  _always_  attract the wrong people?

Ernesto tipped his head back against the vent, looking up at the sky. The ice queen had been a special kind of awful, playing Héctor like a violin, demanding he keep outrageous made up rules and taking advantage of his softness to a disgusting degree.

Because Héctor  _was_  soft. It was part of what made him such a good musician and friend, but it was also what made him so badly in need of protection. His painted weasel of a mother had cowed Héctor into treasuring a kick to face from people he was attached to ever since he was a kid.

Ernesto took another drink, squinting at the burn and at the memory of seeing eight year old Héctor fawning over his mother after two years of not seeing her. Not even noticing the shallow way that she smiled over him, praising him for his doubtless future musical fame instead of seeing the actual son she should have been raising.

Which had made Héctor unable to insist on what he deserved, even now.

Just like Ernesto’s mother.

Ernesto took another drag at his bottle, trying to wash away the intrusive memory of his father shouting Mamá into tears over some inane demand of his, often taking it much farther than words, only to have Mamá turn around and insist that of course he was right when Ernesto asked if she was okay.

Because it never mattered how many many bruises she had or how drunk Papá had been, it was always  _her_  that had “ruined it,” it was always somehow her fault.

“Maybe I can still fix it.” Héctor whispered hoarsely.

“Shut up and drink your tequila.” Ernesto said, a little too roughly, “No talking unless you’re going to talk about what  _she_  did. You’ve been miserable for months now Héctor, she didn’t deserve you and you are  _not_  going back to someone that’s hurt you this badly. She does  _not_ get a second chance, claro?”

Héctor said nothing. The silence stretched so long that Ernesto would have thought he’d fallen asleep if he wasn’t still trembling.

Alright, no talking tonight. That was fine, there would be plenty of time to talk later.

Ernesto put his arm around Héctor, feeling like he was trying to shield a puppy from the cold. He closed his eyes, trying to organize all the things he would say later when Héctor was in a state to listen.

By the time Ernesto opened his eyes again the night air had become chill, the city around them dark between the streetlights. Ernesto checked his watch, grimacing at the hours that had passed.

Héctor was silent and still behind him, but when he looked he saw that Héctor was holding his empty bottle and staring quietly at the piece of jewelry he held in his hand.

A very large part of Ernesto wanted to grab the necklace and hurl it off the roof as far as he could to get it as far away as possible from Héctor.

“Let’s head back down, alright?” Ernesto said, grimacing at his stiffness as he pushed himself up, “You need to sleep.”

“I think I’m going to stay here for a little while longer.” Héctor said quietly, not looking up.

“Héctor you have to sleep.” Ernesto said sternly, “You still have work tomorrow right? Hold on, wait, unless you got  _fired_ too?”

Héctor shook his head. “No, I didn’t get fired. Thank you Nesto, I’ll be down soon, you can go on.”

Ernesto hesitated for a long moment, looking Héctor over. Well, at least he wasn’t hysterical anymore, having apparently cried himself out. He was going to have an excruciating hangover in the morning judging by the empty bottle…but it had gotten him to calm down.

“Do you want me to stay?” Ernesto asked, taking the empty bottle from him.

Héctor shook his head quietly, looking up from his necklace and out at the night horizon.

“Alright.” Ernesto said reluctantly, “Here’s my key so you can get back in. Don’t stay up here too long, and don’t do anything stupid.”

He set his apartment key beside Héctor and then turned to go, only looking back as he descended the service stairs to see Héctor still gazing hollowly out at the night sky. His spark entirely snuffed out.

Ernesto paused as he passed Imelda’s door on the way back to their apartment. He narrowed his eyes at it, imagining her probably laughing it up with friends earlier that evening before getting a full night’s sleep. Meanwhile her victim completely unraveled just above her.

Ernesto’s fists clenched, he could just  _imagine_  kicking her door in and giving her a real scare for what she’d done to Héctor.

But no.

He satisfied himself with making an obscene gesture at her window as he walked on, letting himself into his apartment with the spare key he’d carried since the first time Héctor had locked himself out.

Later Ernesto stared at the ceiling as he lay in bed, knowing that Héctor was still up there.

Well. At least now it was finally over. At least now he could finally start helping Héctor pick up the pieces and move on from his latest disaster and everything could get back to normal.

He turned into his side, adjusting his pillow. Héctor would be fragile for a while, he knew that from experience, meaning that it was very likely that he wouldn’t want to go on their summer tour in a few weeks like they’d planned.

Ernesto closed his eyes with a long sigh, grimacing at the thought of going alone, but if Héctor was truly as broken as he seemed then he would be useless on tour anyway.

Ernesto stayed awake a while longer, listening in vain for the sound of Héctor coming back into the apartment.

He slipped into sleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, still having not have heard them.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And last of all, here is what happens when Héctor goes to work the next morning: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690584/chapters/31445262
> 
> Alright folks, next up, back to the main storyline, @slusheeduck has the next one so keep an eye out!
> 
> \- Wit

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter coming soon. <3
> 
> \- Wit
> 
>  
> 
> https://im-fairly-whitty.tumblr.com/
> 
> http://slusheeduck.tumblr.com/


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